Geek
by afatfreefood
Summary: Who's the geek now, Miss Rhonda Wellington Lloyd?
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first post on here. I love Hey Arnold and all old Nicktoons. that's all you really need to know, right? Oh yeah, and I don't own "Hey Arnold" or any of it's characters. Hats off to you, Mr. Bartlett!**

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd, if anything, had power. Sure, she had money, looks, and a flawless personality (If she could say so herself), but she prided herself most on her iron clad control over her surroundings. She, as the most popular and fashionable girl, had power at school. At home, she had power as she was an only, and very spoiled, child. And within herself? Beyond of course shoes and coats and material things, Rhonda had NO weaknesses.

In fact, the only thing other than the weather that Rhonda had no power over seemed to be her love life. Or rather, those who wanted to be a part of her love life.

In other words, Thaddeus "Curly" Gammelthorpe.

Oh, the countless times she caught him following her home! The innumerable candid pictures he had posted in his locker that she ripped to shreds! Oh, the infinite number of times she had to bend to reach the twerp's eye level and scream "I WILL NEVER, EVER BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!"

But, for some seemingly ridiculous reason, he continued on without a moment's hesitation. How it drove her insane! How she wanted to just pound the little geek's face in! But, as a Lloyd, she had an image to uphold. She was a young _lady_. She would NOT sink to those levels.

At this point, did it really even matter anyways? Fifth grade was ending soon. Besides the wonderful fact she and her classmates would be off to bigger, better things in middle school, Curly- having got himself into one too many battles with school administration- was being sent to - _Oh joy!-_ a correctional school out in God-knows-where, very-far-away-from-here, U.S.A! Rhonda could just cry in bliss!

But, in the meantime, she would have to endure her last few weeks of Curly's..."antics." Which were becoming increasingly more desperate. And increasingly more creepy. Just the other day, in fact, a maid had to chase him from the house with a broom after stealing some of Rhonda's socks from the dirty laundry. Rhonda shuddered at the thought. She had to make an inventory list of all her clothes to keep track of them. Since the "incident", she had lost another pair of socks and an old tee shirt. What use they were being put to now, well, Rhonda certainly did not want to know.

At school, things weren't much better. Last Tuesday, for example, he serenaded her with "That's Amore" while playing his father's accordion, causing everyone in the hallway to stare at the pair and laugh. Friday, he filled her locker with love notes that he slipped in through the cracks. It was beyond mortifying, especially when Helga grabbed one and began reading it to the entire hallway, who, again, stared and laughed...

But, Rhonda could handle it, as long as she reminded herself that it was only 2 more weeks. Then Curly would be gone from her life. Forever. Forever! Oh, she almost felt like dancing up and down the street, or throwing a parade, or detonating a bomb of happiness that rained candy and love across the world! Curly was leaving!! No more creepiness! No more stalking! No more nightmares that he watched her through the window, only to wake up and find that he actually was! Things were gonna be different for Rhonda Wellington Lloyd. In a matter of a few short weeks, she would finally have the control she craved. She was enraptured.

_______________

At this point in time, however, Curly's feelings couldn't be more opposite.

In two weeks, school would be over. In three, he would be off in Santa Cruz, touring the town with his parents, so he could become more familiar with it before they shipped him off and abandoned him there.

In other words, he had three weeks to make Rhonda realize her feelings for him- other than the usual ones of repulsion of course- so that, at minimum, she would actually WANT to keep in contact with him while he was away.

As for the other saps at his school? He could care less if they were aware of his existence. But not Rhonda. Rhonda was...well, indescribable. And she liked him, he was sure of it. The tension in the air when they were semi-alone...it was alive with electricity. Sometimes, even, when he'd forget to stare at her in class, he'd remember and turn to look at her beautiful face, only to find her already staring at _him_. She'd go pink in the face and turn away as casually as she could, as if she hadn't actually been watching him.

But he knew she was. Just like he knew, deep down, Rhonda loved the attention he gave her, and deep down, didn't hate him as much as she said. In the great words of Shakespeare, (he'd think after every time she insulted him) "The lady doth protest too much." Curly smiled inwardly at the thought. He was a hopeless fool in love, and though he couldn't explain it (as he never DID get an answer to the question "Why do fools fall in love?"), Rhonda had consumed his 5th grade heart, body, and soul.

Not that she actually CONSUMED those things literally- Rhonda was far too much of a lady to resort to cannibalism, and that was just _one_ of the millions of reasons why Curly loved her.

_Unfortunately_, she hadn't responded to his more...colorful...attempts for her heart in a very positive fashion.

Two Wednesdays ago, after he presented her with the painting he did of them kissing on the shore of a moonlit beach, she dumped her tapioca pudding on his face. Delicious though the pudding was, Curly couldn't help but feel a bit dejected. Even Helga, after the initial disgust for the subject of the painting, admitted it was well done. Then of course, she made fun of him for being so "pathetic." Like she could talk! It was pretty much common knowledge by now that she was crazy for Arnold, but didn't have the courage to admit it. Probably the only one who didn't know was Arnold.

But what concern did Curly have for the situation? Zilch. The only thing Curly was worried about was Rhonda. He had to win over Rhonda. If he could do that, things wouldn't be so bad.

So, days gradually came and went. Curly racked his brains for any and all strategies he could concoct to win Rhonda over, yet none succeeded. And he had been so_ sure _that she would be charmed by the declaration of love he burned onto her lawn with gasoline! At least her parents thought it was cute, he didn't need another arson charge on his record...

Fifth grade promotion finally passed. Curly was close to feeling defeated, dejected, yet he clung to his hope that maybe SOMEONE up there was looking out for him, that SOMETHING would go right.

It was all he could do, after all, right?


	2. Chapter 2

The ceremony had ended, the final bell had rung. The auditorium doors burst open from the force of hundreds of screaming kids, enthralled at their new grade level statuses and the promise of a long, sweet summer vacation. Amidst the chaos, and through the thick summer heat, Rhonda's voice could be heard.

"Attention former PS 118 Fifth Graders of Mrs. Packenham's class! Don't forget that there is a party at my house tonight at 7 o clock!"

"Yeah, yeah, pipe down, Princess! We've only been reminded about a THOUSAND times since April that you'd have a party tonight…" Helga sneered. She was in an exceptionally bad mood, as her parents seemingly forgot her fifth grade promotion ceremony. However, that did NOT make Rhonda less irritated at the comment.

"A party? Tonight?" whined Harold. "Ohh I forgot!!"

"Good _grief_, Pink Boy! How could you possibly have forgotten after all seventeen billion times Rhonda here _reminded _us? They must be outta their minds to let you promote to middle school…"

The argument continued, but Rhonda did not stay to listen to it. Her thoughts were on her marvelous party. She smiled.

A little ways away, Curly was smiling too. It was a slightly sad, mostly hopeful smile, because Curly knew that this party was his last chance…

He took off at a run towards his house, leaving his parents behind at the school. He needed time to get ready. He needed to make sure everything was perfect for tonight, and he had no time to waste.

Rhonda, in the backseat of her father's gorgeous red convertible, was ecstatic. She was out of elementary school. It was official! And, after her party, Thaddeus Curly Gammelthorpe would be long gone! Could there possibly _be_ a better day? Rhonda giggled to herself as the wind danced through her hair. This was the beginning of a better, happier Rhonda Wellington Lloyd.

As the car rolled up to the house, Rhonda jumped out. She had to get ready for tonight. She needed to make sure everything was perfect for tonight, and she had no time to waste.

* * *

At seven o' clock, Rhonda was ready. She looked beautiful in a yellow sundress and white headband, the house was spotless, and her parents had promised only to come downstairs in the case of an extreme emergency. She had the making for the perfect pre-teen party, and was on cloud nine.

The guests gradually began to arrive. Eugene was first as always (the poor kid was oblivious to the "fashionably late" rule), and last was Harold, who seemed to have just remembered the party. Yes, everyone was accounted for…Eugene, Sheena, Lila, Nadine, Katrinka, Phoebe, Gerald, Stinky, Sid, Harold, Arnold, Brainy, Robert, Helga, Peapod Kid, Iggy, Park, Joey Stevenson, Lorenzo…

Someone was missing…

Her heart stopped. For one glorious, shining moment, she thought he forgot…

_Ding_-_dong_

Great.

Rhonda took a deep, steadying breath, and walked with her head held high to the door. She braced herself, and slowly pulled the door open…

"Hello Rhonda," said Curly, as maturely and respectfully as he could. He bowed slightly, holding out a box wrapped in plain blue paper with a little white ribbon. "This is for you, my sweet."

Rhonda eyed the package.. It perfectly matched the blue suit he was wearing. She snorted at his outfit. He was, clearly, trying way_ too_ hard.

"This is NOT a gift-giving party, _Curly_." She said his name with every ounce of contempt that she was capable of. "The invitation made that perfectly clear."

"I know, but since-"

She folded her arms, and turned up her nose. "I don't want it."

"But-"

"No 'but's, Curly. No means no. That's final."

To her astonishment, something in his eyes seemed to break, or die. His shoulders fell. Like a warrior without a sword, defenseless, and hopeless, Curly uttered a simple "Okay, Rhonda."

Pleased at his lack of argument, Rhonda steeped aside to let him into the party, where things were going, in her opinion, splendidly. Sid, Stinky, and Harold were having a Yahoo chugging contest, Lorenzo was casually flirting with a giggling Lila, Sheena and Eugene were discussing musicals ("Did you hear? They're making a _RATS II_!"), and Gerald had just told a joke, causing Arnold, Phoebe, and even Helga to laugh. Suddenly, Nadine ran up to Rhonda, excited.

"Rhonda, Rhonda!! Peapod Kid and I were talking, and he suggested we play _spin–the-bottle! _He said it would be a great way to spice up the party! What do you think?"

Irritated as she was that Peapod Kid thought her party needed "spicing up," Rhonda couldn't ignore the vitality of a good game of spin-the-bottle…

"Oh, Nadine! What a fabulous idea! Turn off the music, I'm going to make the announcement!" Rhonda cried. The bright, Summery music was turned off, Rhonda stood on a chair and yelled" Hey! Who wants to play a friendly game of spin-the-bottle?" She grinned wickedly.

Across the room, Harold was quickest to respond. "EWWWWWWWWW! Spin-the-bottle means you have to KISS people! If I knew I'd have to kiss people I wouldn't have come to this dumb party! Girls are dumb, spin-the-bottle-is dumb! I don't wanna kiss any dumb girls." He ended with a huff, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, well no girl would wanna kiss you either, Blimp-O." Stated Helga with attitude.

"I told you not to call me that! I have a gland problem!"

"Yeah, if your stomach can be considered a gland…" snickered Sid.

"Why I oughta-"

Harold was interrupted by a frustrated Rhonda. "FINE! How about this, Harold? We all play Spin-the-bottle truth or dare. That way, you don't HAVE to kiss anybody unless you are dared to, and you _can't_ back out of a dare or you're branded Weasel For Life. Does everyone agree?"

A chorus of various "yes"s followed.

"Good. Now everyone sit on the floor in a circle. I'll spin first since it's MY party." Spinning one of the empty Yahoo bottles onher gleaming hardwood floor, she grinned craftily, formulating a good question for each of the members of the circle in her mind. The bottle was slowing…it passed Stinky…Phoebe…Gerald (who exhaled, relieved)…and came to rest on Arnold.

"Terrific; Arnold." She drawled. He looked up, cheeks reddening…

"Truth, or dare?"

"Uh…"

"Choose truth, man." Whispered Gerald. "For all you know she may make you do that whole 'bunny pajamas' thing again…"

"Truth." Arnold's heart beat hard in his chest. Rhonda could see he was nervous.

"Okay, Arnold…I'll give you an easy one, since you had to go first and all." She smiled mischievously. "Do you…like-like…"

Arnold gulped nervously.

"….Lila?"

Lila giggled behind her hand.

Rhonda had expected Arnold to beat around the bush before he finally answered yes, but he surprised her.

"No. Not anymore. I just like her."

Lila's jaw dropped.

"Oh, Arnold. It's cute that you would try to salvage your dignity and all, but we all know you still do…" Rhonda stated.

"I don't. " Arnold, quickly half glanced at Helga, who had mysteriously gone a bit pink in the face and was smiling dreamily, until she realized what she was doing, and discreetly slapped herself in the face. Rhonda, who was certain that no one else perceived this, decided she MUST further investigate this peculiar behavior. But first…

"Okay, my turn to spin." Arnold spun, and it landed on….Brainy.

"Uh…hi." Wheezed Brainy.

"Um, hi, Brainy…Truth or dare?"

"Uh…truth."

At this point, Helga grabbed the bottle, and pointed it threateningly at Brainy.

"I've got a question for YOU, pal. Why are you ALWAYS following me around, huh? And BREATHING behind my head, and being a general CREEP? I mean, criminy! Can't a girl have a little space without being followed everywhere?" Sid discreetly slipped the bottle out of her grasp before she could lose her temper and hit Brainy with it. Brainy, as she spoke, began breathing heavily. Helga's eyes bulged. "See? Just like you're doing right now!" Helga threw her clenched fists on her hips as she glowered down at him.

Silence, then…

"Uhhh……"

Brainy held this out. The rest of the circle exchanged looks. Helga cocked one half of her unibrow.

He wheezed."….I dunno." He spun the bottle. Helga sat down, exasperated, defeated, or else unwilling to pursue the subject further.

The bottle landed on Sid, who promptly shouted "Dare! See, Stinky, I'm not too chicken to pick dare!"

"Uh…dance for us…"

Sid blushed, but nevertheless did his best rendition of Thriller, finally ending with a moonwalk across the center of the circle, at which point he sat down to applause.

"Thank you, thank you." He smiled, removing his backwards hat and bowing.

He spun the bottle. Rhonda.

"Ahaha! Rhonda! Excellent…What happened when you and Harold went into the Tunnel of Love together, and WHY did you do it? Didn't you KNOW that was a romantic ride? Do you have a crush on Harold Burman? " Sid fired these at her like court accusations.

She remained sitting calmly on the ground, unfazed, her arms folded. "I didn't pick yet, Sid." She grinned triumphantly. "I pick dare."

Sid, who was pointing fiercely at Rhonda, deflated and dropped his arm to the floor. Stinky piped up with "I have the perfect dare, Sid!" He leaned over and whispered it into Sid's ear.

"Oh man! That's the best dare ever, Stinky!"

"What? What?!" Rhonda was frantic.

"Kiss…"Sid grinned viciously.

Rhonda gulped….this did NOT bode well.

Sid and Stinky snickered a moment or two, but regained composure.

Rhonda realized what Sid would say a split second before he actually did but held an ounce of hope...

_Don't_ _say_….

"…Curly."


	3. Chapter 3

"I beg your pardon?" Asked Rhonda, scandalized.

"Kiss Curly for _five_ seconds." Sid smiled toothily, chin up, arms folded. The room erupted in laughter.

"Absolutely not! I'd rather die!"

"Now, Rhonda," began Gerald, "You can't just wimp out and refuse to do a dare... That breaks the Truth or Dare code, and, if I remember correctly, brands you a '_weasel for life'_. And let me tell you, that isn't fun. Ain't that right, Sid? Sid the_ weasel?_" Gerald smiled, his eyes half lidded.

"It was one stupid dare. Sue me." Shrugged Sid, trying and failing to look indifferent.

"Yeah, but don't you regret not doing it? Now that you're a weasel and everyone knows it?"

"Well, yeah. I thought you guys would forget after a day or two but..." Sid looked down, dejectedly.

Rhonda weighed the options. In one hand, by not kissing Curly she would be on the same level as Sid, which was mortifying yet definitely not lethal, on the other, if she kissed Curly she'd probably die...

"Oh, and if you DON'T do it, chances are your popularity will slip...nobody likes a weasel..." Added Helga loftily.

Rhonda's eyebrows dropped. That was too much. Rhonda would do anything to defend and protect her title as Most Popular.

"Fine. Get over here, Curly. You try anything- ANYTHING- funny, I will send you home in a shoebox. Got it, you little dweeb?"

Curly looked up at her, wide eyed. He wasn't even smiling. "Okay Rhonda. I'll behave myself." He said seriously. Despite his restraint, it was clear he was excited. This wasn't their first kiss, but it was definitely the first that Rhonda initiated. It would also, therefore, be the only one wherein he wouldn't be aggressive. He would relax, be a gentleman, you know.

Curly sat down on his knees in front of Rhonda, who then moved to her knees, too. Curly could hardly breathe. He could smell her hair. Heck, he could even smell the fabric softener she did her laundry with. He had never been this close to Rhonda (that she was aware of) for this long without her snapping at him.

Rhonda was fidgety. "Curly! I request you take off your glasses. If we are going to have to do this....this _thing,_ I would prefer your memories be hazy and unclear." She pulled his glasses off. He didn't say a word.

"Move it along, Princess! We don't have all night!" ordered Helga.

"Yeah, quit stallin'!" interjected Sid.

"What are you, Rhonda? Chicken?" teased Harold.

Rhonda's face grew hot at the children's laughter. "I'll show YOU chicken!"

And with that, she grabbed Curly in a tight embrace, and muttered "Oh, God, forgive me." With that, she kissed him, seemingly passionately (without tongue of course- they're barely sixth graders!), and the circle counted slowly to five.

"One..."

Curly was breathless. He was, yet again, kissing Rhonda. The only way this moment could be better would be if she hadn't been dared and was kissing him of her own accord. But, beggers can't be choosers!

Rhonda was in agony. She could almost_ feel_ the diseases Curly was sure to have oozing onto her...

"Two..."

He could feel her body heat, her heart beat...

She could feel him shaking. She wasn't sure if that creeped her out or flattered her.

"Three..."

Okay, she DEFINITELY did not need to be holding him like this. She was only dared to _kiss_ him, not passionately _embrace_ him. That HAD to be a good sign...

She made up her mind. It creeped her out.

"Four..."

Why were they counting _soo _SLOW?

_Why _were they counting so FAST?

"Five!"

Rhonda broke away, gasping. "See! I'm not a chicken!" Rhonda yelled triumphantly, slightly deranged.

Curly just sat there, as if he was so overwhelmed he was incapable of intelligent thought.

"Uh...Rhonda?" asked Nadine tentatively, her voice small in the now quiet room. "...you can let Curly go now..."

"Oh, right..." Rhonda detached herself from Curly. "Um, sorry, Curly... you can go back to the other side of the circle now."

Curly barely registered what she said. He put his glasses on. "What did you-"

"GO BACK TO YOUR PLACE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE CIRCLE!" she snapped.

The game continued. By the end of the party, Sheena had rapped, Gerald admitted to having a "soft spot", as he put it, for Phoebe (no surprises there), Stinky shared his worst, most embarrassing pee story ("Honestly, I'm surprised I didn't completely explode. I guess I'm lucky that I wet m'self. If my bladder had burst inside me, I woulda probly died right then and there!"), Helga admitted that her top favorite elementary school moments were saving the neighborhood, the time that flood happened, and Valentine's Day (though she didnt say why), and Harold refused to kiss a relieved Nadine on the cheek.

Soon, the party goers dispersed. Sighing in satisfaction, as the last party goers left ("Bye, Stinky! Bye Harold the _**weasel**_!"), Rhonda closed the door, as the voices of her last party goers faded off in the distance. Or so she thought.

She turned towards her living room and screamed. Curly was sitting on her couch.

"Rhonda, darling! Is everything alright?" Called her father from upstairs.

"Yes, Daddy! I...uh...saw a bug!" she called back cheerfully. Her toned changed when she saw Curly. "What on earth are you still doing here?" She whispered.

"Don't worry Rhonda. I was just leaving. I just wanted to talk to you alone for a minute." Curly stood up, and began walking towards her. She countered this by subconsciously walking backwards.

_Oh god...why me??_ she thought desperately.

"As you know, I'm leaving Hillwood in a few day's time, to uh, further my educational pursuits elsewhere..." He paused, trying to formulate what to say next. Rhonda had backed up against the wall.

"And seeing as well...we've known each other so long, I figure, why stop now just because of some silly little matter of a couple hundred miles?" He was a few feet from her at this point.

"I don't understand what you're asking me, Curly." Rhonda folded her arms. She was quiet, slightly unnerved, yet slightly, secretly thrilled at the energy in the air...

"You could call us close friends, right?"

"No."

"Regular friends?"

"No."

"A step above acquaintances?"

"No."

"At least not enemies? I mean, you don't HATE me, right?"

She paused. "I don't hate you, per say..." She inhaled. "I just don't always appreciate your behavior around me."

"Well, now that I'm leaving...you won't be seeing me, so you won't have to put up with that. I just have one simple favor to ask..."

"What's that?" Rhonda glared at him.

"Keep in touch with me. Maybe write me a letter if I write you one. I mean, I'm going out there alone...I'm gonna miss you. How could I not miss the most beautiful woman on the planet?" _Easy Curly_, he thought,_ don't go back to creeping her out..._

"Are you nuts? After everything you put me through?!" Rhonda cried, then clamped her hand over her mouth. Her parents didn't seem to have noticed a thing.

"Let's be honest with ourselves," Curly began, edging closer. "You _liked_ it."

Rhonda opened her mouth to protest. He, now mere feet away, reached out a hand and covered her lips. "Rhonda, if you didn't you wouldn't have paid me so much attention back...you would have tried to ignore my attempts, instead of giving me more attention...you fueled my love for you, you know you did..." He was inches away. She sputtered, but seemed unable to speak. "Why else would you have kissed me like that today? You didn't want me to forget you, just as much as i don't want you to forget me."

He was inches from her face.

"Just a few letters is all I ask, Rhonda. It's not every day a guy loves a girl as much as I love you..." Rhonda's eyes were like saucers. "Think about it."

He was about to kiss her. They both knew it. She wasn't doing anything to stop it. Encouraged, Curly took her in his arms and dipped her low, and puckered up.

The front door, several feet away, burst open. It was Harold, yelling "Rhonda, have you seen a blue jacket? I left-"

He saw the two in their, um, incriminating position.

Harold stared, mouth open. Curly and Rhonda, both shocked, stared back, frozen.

"Harold, what the heck's takin so long?" Cried Stinky, who ran up. "Oh."

Rhonda snapped out of it first, pushed Curly off her, and fell to the floor.

"I'm sorry, my beautiful queen, I didn't mean t drop you!" cried Curly.

"AHH-hahahaha!" burst Harold. "You guys were about to KISS!"

Stinky was laughing, too. "Gawsh, that kiss at the party just wasn't enough, huh?"

Something in Rhonda snapped. Her fury broke.

"WE WERE NOT ABOUT TO KISS! HE WAS ABOUT TO DO WHAT HE ALWAYS DOES AND SURPRISE KISS ME! TRUST ME, I WOULD _NEVER_ KISS THAT LITTLE GEEK ON MY OWN ACCORD, FOR MY OWN ENJOYMENT, EVER!!! The thought of that makes me want to VOMIT! I mean, honestly? You think RHONDA WELLINGTON LLOYD would EVER like Curly??!"

Curly was shattered.

Stinky continued, but Curly heard from a distance, and saw like he was looking through the wrong end of a telescope. "Oh! Well, then it's a good thing we showed up and stopped it! We're just regular heroes or somethin'."

"Yeah," agreed Harold as he grabbed his jacket and pulled it on. "We should get some kinda reward for this."

Rhonda, breathing heavily, growled "Just. Go."

"Okie doke then. We better take you with us, Curly, so you dont try anything else on Miss Rhonda."

Curly walked towards the door. He didn't look, but he spoke to Rhonda, who glared back at him.

"It was nice knowing you, Rhonda. Forget about the letters. Present's on the table. Throw it away if you want to."

"Don't worry, I will."

He looked up, the heartbreak evident in his eyes. Upon seeing this, her eyes softened, but her expression remained stiff as ever.

"C'mon Curly, Rhonda needs to get some rest now. It's been a long day..." Stinky pushed Curly out the door. Turning, Stinky added, "G'night, Miss."

The door closed. Rhonda stared at it for about five seconds. Then, she quietly began to cry. In anger, in humiliation, and a fraction for Curly.

* * *

Minutes later, Curly was in his room. On his bed. Sobbing. It was almost indecent, the fact a boy was crying this hard over a girl. But, if you loved someone as much as lonely, crazy little Curly loved Rhonda, maybe you'd understand.

* * *

Rhonda, sniffling, sat at her table. The box sat in front of her. She wanted to throw it away. She wanted to burn it. But mostly she wanted to open it.

She did. Inside there was a wooden jewelry box, embellished with a beautiful, Asian design of gold and jade. It was beautiful. She opened it, and it played a hauntingly beautiful, mournful tune. Inside, on soft green velvet, was a thin, delicate gold chain with a round locket. She opened the locket to find a compass. She didn't understand the symbolism, but it was lovely, nonetheless. She began to cry again.

* * *

Meanwhile, Curly stopped crying. He went to his mirror, and studied himself determinedly, angrily. He grabbed his dad's electric razor. He buzzed off his bowl cut. He broke his glasses. His optometrist told him he only needed them for another week, his eyes were basically corrected. He was going to be different at his new school. He wasn't going to be Curly. Curly, as far as he was concerned, was dead.


	4. Chapter 4

_Hey everyone! Thanks for reading on. Just a heads up- there's cussing in this chapter and mature themes. What can I say? These are rough, angry eleventh grade boys. It is what they do._

_Thanks!_

_-fff_

_

* * *

  
_

Five years later-

The letter came on a Wednesday afternoon. He had just returned to his room from his weight training class, and was feeling exhausted yet pleased with his work. The sun streamed though his open window in gold, the breeze warm and cheerful, creating a mood very opposite than that of his letter. He read the thing again and again, and could find no positives hidden in. His father was sick –very sick- and he would be going "home" again, leaving the first and only real home he knew, Santa Cruz Correctional School for Youths. D couldn't believe it. His life had never been better, HE had never been happier. His classmates, albeit rough and rugged, wayward and wild, created some kind of makeshift family for D, a family within which he fit seamlessly.

He sat down on the edge of his bed and ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best not to get angry. Giving up, he tore the letter to shreds. His roommate, Billy Schulyer, came in, cigarette in mouth.

"Hey D, what'sa matter with you, huh? You said you'd meet me in the Rec Room for a game of pool, and then you don't show! What gives?!" Billy held a pool stick in hand, and leaned on it casually in front of D.

"Billy, you're gonna need to find some other kid to play pool with." D said, laying back on his bed and staring at the ceiling.

"D, what're ya talkin-"

"I'm being sent home." D looked over at Billy, who paused a moment, inhaled, and then-

"You got EXPELLED?! How the _fuck_ do you manage to get expelled from a _correctional school_? Oh, god- Don't tell me you did that thing with the lab animals. Ah, Jesus_ Christ_! What did I tell ya, huh? I told you _not_ to, that's what I said!!"

D jumped to his feet. "Could you just shut up and listen to me, Billy? I'm not expelled. My dad's sick. Real sick. Mom wants me home." He sighed and sat down; his eyes trailing the ash from Billy's cigarette as it fell to the floor. "Besides, this place wouldn't expel me for something as petty as setting the lab animals free. That's kiddie stuff…back home I once-"

"-Broke out an entire zoo. I know." Billy sighed and sat next to D. "its crazy shit like that what _proves_ to me you shouldn't be going _no w_here. You're as nuts as they come, you can't leave! You're a danger to society; you'll end up back here in a month. No, make that a week!" Billy joked. He sobered up a bit and added "This place would be way too quiet, and…sane, without you here. Ya can't leave."

D looked over at his friend and smiled sadly. "Buddy, I know. You think I want to leave this place either? This place was the first where I ever really fit in. This is where I figured out who I am. But, my dad's sick. I can't just take that lying down."

"He couldn't hold off on the serious illness just two more years? I was, I dunno, lookin' forward to getting' my cap n' diploma with you. I don't want get too sentimental or nothing-"

"-You mean '_anything'_-"

"Yeah, yeah, too sentimental or _anything_, but I came here thinking I was gonna wait it out till I turned sixteen then drop school altogether. Get a job at my uncle's mechanic shop changing tires. Then you helped me out with grades and, shit, I think I'm actually gonna make it into state. I mean_, college_, man- if you'd of told William H. Schulyer that he was make it to college by the time he was through with this joint, he woulda laughed at your face and called ya nuts. But look at me now! All thanks to you, Gammelthorpe."

D rubbed the back of his neck. "Don't thank me for you being smart. Thank your mother. And by the way, let her know I say thanks for those cookies she sent for my birthday, will ya?"

"Yeah, yeah. Alls I'm saying is it'll be a worse place without you here." He looked at the ground. "What are you doin?"

D had gotten up and began taking things out of his drawers. "Packing. I'm leaving Saturday."

Billy sighed and fell back on the bed, folding his arms behind his head. "So it's not a prank then, huh? Not just another crazy _Curly_ gag you always pull?"

"HEY! Don't call me _Curly_, got it? That ain't me, see?" D had Billy by the shirt collar, pocketknife up to his face, his eyes flaming in anger. Evidently it wasn't unusual behavior, because the extent of Billy's reaction was a blink.

"'_Ain't _' ain't a real word, _Thaddeus_."

D pulled the shirt harder, scowling. "Don't give me that educational bullshit!"

Billy sighed and pushed the knife away from his face.

"Sorry, it's just a funny nickname. I mean, you're named _Thaddeus_, you go by D for god knows why, and your ma calls you_ Curly_. Pick a name, will ya?"

"I _don't _go by Thaddeus because it's a ridiculous name. I _don't_ go by Curly because, it too, is a ridiculous name, and _I DO_ go by D because it's different enough from Thad_**DE**_us to have some dignity."

"Whatever, man." Billy casually attempted to balance the pool stick on his middle finger. "So, how you want to spend your going away party, huh? And, if ya want, I can, heh heh, make myself scarce on Friday night if you wanna figure out a way to smuggle Emily in." said Billy, catching the stick with flourish, waggling an eyebrow.

D clapped his hand to his forehead. "Emily! God damnit! I completely forgot about her! Aw she's gonna throw a fit, just you wait." He angrily chucked an old orange and green shirt into the trash can. Something drifted to the floor out from the shirt.

"What's that?" Billy walked over and picked up an old photograph. "Oh Jesus, tell me this isn't you!"

D lunged at Billy and wrestled the picture away. His cheeks went crimson at the old him in the picture.

"No, that isn't me. _That's _Curly_."_ Said D in disgust.

"Yeah, well then, who's the skirt?" Billy pointed to the girl in the picture, who was trapped in Curly's arms, looking revolted as she attempted to escape.

D's eyes darkened. "That, my friend, is Evil personified. _Rhonda Wellington Lloyd_. We were nine."

"I bet she's smokin' hot now." Billy said fairly.

D had to nod in agreement. Rhonda was a babe then, and unless she'd met some unfortunate fate, she probably was a babe now. But D couldn't be less interested. Love at the age of ten doesn't mean jack squat. On the rare occasion something made him think of Rhonda, the extent of his feelings were slight embarrassment and general indifference. That fact made him slightly proud. Truthfully, he didn't think he'd ever get over Rhonda. But five years at the Santa Cruz SCY seemed to do the trick.

"Well thank god you grew up and out of THAT look." Teased Billy.

"You're telling me. No wonder Rhonda never gave me a chance back then." D looked down critically at his former self. "Crazy little geek."

Billy clapped his hand on D's back. "Yeah well, you're still crazy, but you're not a geek. If this 'Rhonda' could see you now, you'd give her a run for her money."

D raised an eyebrow. "Keep talking like that and I'm gonna start thinking you have a crush on me." He joked.

"What, a guy can't tell his best friend that he's hot?" Billy did a kissy face at D and laughed as he dodged his fist.

Billy didn't lie. The boy formerly known as Curly had grown into a striking young man. He had a handsome face, dark eyes and a mop of black hair. He was tall and slightly built, but still rather skinny. He wore dark jeans and tee shirts, a brown leather jacket and aviators, pulling off a casually sexy look flawlessly. More often than not, he sported various cuts on his arms and hands, mostly from handling his pocket knife, all of which added to his "bad boy" look and therefore his appeal to the opposite sex. His on-again, off-again girlfriend Emily always told him that his eyes _smoldered_. D didn't exactly know what that meant, but was nonetheless pleased. Billy, a good looking kid himself, often liked to tease D on his frequently received attention from the opposite sex.

D shrugged. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, you fruit."

The two spent the rest of the time just hanging out, several of the other guys stopped in for a bit, all of which were equally disappointed to hear of D's upcoming departure. Eventually, Emily called and put up a serious fight against the fact D was leaving.

In the case of Emily, D wasn't so cut up about his leaving. Emily was a sweet, sweet kid, don't get him wrong, she just…was a little_ too_ sweet. And definitely too attached. She put out, which was cool, but…don't go telling anybody, D had a particularly high-strung romantic side to him. And in the case of making love to Emily, that connection just wasn't there. It was an animalistic bond, not what he wanted.

D wanted love, but he'd sooner slit Emily's throat than admit that little tidbit to anybody.

Sure, all the guys thought he was "the shit" for baggin' a chick like Emily-pretty face, bulging chest, skinny waist, nothing short of glorious ass- but D couldn't help think that he could do better. It wouldn't even matter if a girl was cute or not; if he loved her, he'd be doing better.

It was for that reason, on Saturday morning, he ended things with Emily at the airport. After cursing at him, crying, and hugging him fleetingly, Emily ran away from him at the terminal, leaving behind a guilty looking D and a somber Billy.

"Take care of her, alright, man?" asked D, turning to Billy.

"Yeah, sure man. Hey listen, is it cool if I play the whole '_Supportive Friend Who Turns into Something More'_ role with her? Or is she off limits? Truth be told, buddy, I thought she was a babe from the get go, and if you aren't into her…"

D cut across him. "Go for it, dude. Just go easy on her, she's a sweet kid."

Billy broke out into a smile, and punched his fist into the air. "YES!"

Over the intercom, an enthusiastic woman announced that D's plane was boarding.

"Well, it looks like this is the end of the road, bro." said D solemnly.

"Looks like it. Listen man, thanks…Thanks for all the help at school, with chicks, with, fuck, _everything_. It won't be the same without you. "

D, in a rare display of affection, pulled his friend into a tight hug. "I'll keep in touch, Billy. You're like my brother or something. I wouldn't have made it outta that school alive if it weren't for you."

The woman's voice announced the last call for boarders.

The hug broke, D bent down to pick up his suitcase, and turned and walked away from his friend.

"God speed, Thaddeus Gammelthorpe, God speed."

He turned to see Billy, ginning toothily with a hand up in mock salute for his friend.

D returned the gesture, and added "Here's lookin' at you, kid." He turned, shook his head chuckling, and walked into the tunnel extending to the plane.

It really hit him now, as he sat into his seat. He was going back to Hillwood, back to his former life.

He sooner punch his grandmother than admit it, but…

He was scared.

* * *

But that lasted all of about ten seconds. Soon, all D could think about was how to handle himself when he got back. He knew he'd have to go to school with all those kids from way back when. Should he introduce himself as D or Curly?

No. He wasn't gonna be Curly again. D was who he was now. He would act like he'd never met any of them in his life. Besides, the chance of any of them recognizing him was low. He'd grown up so much, he was was virtually unrecognizable.

He thought of Rhonda…would she recognize him? Would she remember the last time they spoke? Would it be awkward?

What if she didn't recognize him? What if she thought, like Billy said, D was attractive? He grinned evilly. Oh, the revenge would be so sweet if that were the case! He'd lead her on, flirt, get her to fall hopelessly, pathetically in love with him and WHAM- he break her spirits like she broke his!

But that was pretty drastic, considering he didn't even care about her anymore.

No! No it wasn't, he rationalized, because she is a bitch, a complete bitch who has it coming to her.

D had decided. He would use his charm and charisma to get Rhonda to love him…or at least really like him. Then he'd break her heart and that would be that. It was perfect. He began to laugh…a wild, raving laugh that grew in volume and intensity into a loud uncontrolled cackle. He held his balled fists above his head, celebrating the immanent victory that was sure to come!

He stopped suddenly. The plane had gone completely silent. Many had turned to stare at him, mouths agape. The elderly man who had been napping next to him was awake, looking at D like he was insane.

D coughed casually and sat down. He turned, red faced, to look out the window. But the plan still whizzed around in his mind excitedly.

"_Just you wait, Rhonda. You won't know what hit you when I'm through"_

"Who's Rhonda? Who are you talking to?!" the old man wheezed loudly.

D looked down at him. "Er…I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was speaking out loud."

The man grunted and closed his eyes again. D looked out the window.

"_I have GOT to stop doing that."_

"Doing WHAT?!"

D looked back at him in surprise. "Sorry…I'm just a bit excited today. Never mind."

The old man muttered something about the consequences of drug use then closed his eyes. Making sure he wasn't speaking, D thought darkly to himself…

_This is going to be a lot more fun than I thought._

_

* * *

  
_

Thanks for reading, readers! Just to let you all know, the name D is not staying!! That was just part of the new, different Curly. He will, once again, be the Curly we know and love. This chapter isn't exactly necessary, but I figured you all should know a bit more about Curly's life in California, his feelings towards Rhonda, etc.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey Y'all!

So, I just want to clarify, if any of you are confused. I actually happen to NOT own Hey Arnold. Props to you, Mr. Bartlett. Oh, and The Great Gatsby? Also, not mine. F. Scott Fitzgerald's ghost gave me permission to use the story though, I swear.

* * *

_The storm raged against the walls of the glamorous white mansion. The bay's sandy shores had shrunk beneath the swelling waters, and the green light adjacent to the house, on the other shore, had vanished in the rain._

_The gleaming mahogany front doors were open, bleeding yellow electric light on the sodden front lawn, revealing a beautiful young woman, dark haired and glamorous, in the arms of a generically handsome man. In front of them, a pathetic lump of a man was on his knees in the grass, sobbing, begging. His finely tailored suit was soaked and covered in mud. And his body trembled; not from the cold, but from desperation. His large brown eyes were wide and pleading. Oddly enough, he bore a striking likeness to Harold Burman._

"_Daisy! Daisy, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have had a mistress! I should have loved you and given you all the respect you deserve! PLEASE take me back! PLEASE!" he broke in to fresh tears._

_The beautiful women on the steps folded her arms in disgust. "Tom Buchanan, you were never good enough for me. Jay here loves me. He loves me so much that he built his entire life around me to make me happy. It's over between us. Now shoo, leave this yard and never come back. You're an eyesore."_

_Jay Gatsby pulled his arm around his lover, and the two glared down at the man before them, who flopped on his side, left cheek covered in mud, wallowing in his despair._

"_PLEEAAASEEEE…I'll do anything…." He sobbed and choked…"Anything…"_

_The women turned up her nose, unmoved. "Come, Jay. Let's go back inside."_

_The man on the ground jumped to his feet. Jay promptly kicked him back down, and ushered Daisy back inside, closing the gleaming doors behind them. Tom ran to the door, pounding, crying;_

"_Rhonda?_ _RHONDA!"_

Rhonda Wellington Lloyd snapped out of her particularly satisfying daydream and back into reality, also known as Junior English. Her teacher, Mr. Robbins, had his hands on the front corners of her desk, and was leaning to reach her eye level, trying to get her attention.

"RHONDA!"

"Yes?! Sorry, what was the question?" She asked.

The thirty-something teacher narrowed his eyes. His dislike for Rhonda was evident. Stuffily, he began to preach at her.

"I ASKED you for your thoughts on Sheena's last comment. If you had been paying _attention_ to the class discussion, you would _know_ what that question was, but seeing as you seem to be in the mindset that you are too _good_ for this class, it appears I will have to repeat it for you: 'Is either Tom or Gatsby deserving of Daisy's love? Is she deserving of either of theirs?' He looked down at Rhonda distastefully. "But I'll venture a guess you didn't even read it, did you? Probably had another _debutante ball_ like last week, didn't you?"

Rhonda glared back more forcefully. "It just so happens that I DID read it, _Mister_ Robbins." She shot the 'mister' at him like an insult." My answer to Sheena's question is that Gatsby DOES deserve Daisy's love. At this point in the book I think Daisy, in turn, deserves Gatsby's love, and that Tom does NOT deserve any love of any kind."

Robbins raised an eyebrow. "That's pretty harsh. Why so passionate in your dislike for a fictional character?"

Rhonda's voice became venomous. "Because Tom Buchanan is a cheater. A filthy, worthless cheater and deserves to be loveless for the rest of his life….despite the fact that he is a fictional character. There is no kind of man who is more cowardly and despicable than a cheater." Several students snickered. Harold Burman, several rows up, had gone beet red and slid down a bit in his seat.

Robbins turned and strode back to the front of the class. "Interesting opinion, Miss Lloyd." He said loftily.

Turning back towards her when he reached the front board, he added waspishly "But I'll ask you to kindly separate your personal life from my class." He grinned cruelly. "An idiot could have pieced your excessive hostility towards your recent boyfriend, Harold, and that little rant together."

Rhonda, offended, was on her feet. "I'll guess that explains how it didn't get past YOU, _sir_." She spit the word 'sir' from her mouth like a rotten berry. She grabbed her school bags, and stormed up the aisle.

"Sit back down, _Princess_, or it's detention."

She whipped back around and stared at her teacher with a look that could have melted diamonds.

"It's worth it." She left the classroom.

Helga Pataki, sitting a few seats from the door, raised her hand.

"Robbins, let me handle this. I'll get her back, just give me a sec." Helga slid her chair back with a loud _screeeech_ and walked out of the room. As the door closed, she heard a "Now you wait just a minute, Miss Pa-". She grinned as she imagined the finger wagging that surely accompanied his feeble attempt at maintaining authority.

Ahead of Helga, a furious Rhonda wrenched open her locker and began taking things out.

"OI! Hang on a sec there, Princess." Helga jogged up to the locker.

"Not a good time, Helga. Not kidding. I'm out of here. Tell Robbins to fuck himself."

"Woah, there, Rhonda! That's not a very lady-like thing to say." Helga said sarcastically. She reached up and put an arm around Rhonda's shoulder. More seriously, she continued. "Look, Robbins is a douche. _You_ know that. _I _know that. You can't let him get you worked up like this. He's just not worth the energy. Just do your work and keep your head down. Be non-confrontational. If not for me, for the sake of passing the eleventh grade."

Rhonda scoffed. "You are the biggest hypocrite I have ever met, Helga." She rolled her eyes, closed her locker, and sighed. "His attack was completely uncalled for. So _what_ if I'm passionate about The Great Gatsby? So _WHAT _if I can relate to Daisy being totally cheated on?"

Helga's eyes narrowed. "Harold's a complete ass. He's sorry for what he did, but…"Helga's face darkened. "Not sorry enough. Trust me Rhonda. This isn't over."

Rhonda smiled at Helga. It was sort of strange, how things worked out with Helga. Though not best friends, they had a bond. They had each other's backs and helped the other when they could. It wasn't like they spent the night at the other's place on weekends, but hung out after school sometimes. The two weren't as opposite as one might think at first glance. Both had strong, fiery personalities. They clicked.

"Thanks, Pataki. So why'd you come out here, anyways?"

"To bring you back to class. Come on. You're stronger than Robbins and you'll prove it by going back to class, straight-backed and proud. Okay?" Helga began to lead Rhonda by the shoulders towards the classroom, but Rhonda dug her heels in, making it difficult to push her any farther.

"No way, Helga. Being 'stronger' is _NOT_ enough to motiva-"

Rhonda stopped talking suddenly. Passing Helga and Rhonda in the hallway was a boy Rhonda had never seen in this school. He walked with a slight swagger and confidence. His dark, unkempt black hair stuck fell on his head in messy brilliance. His clothes were _totally _bad-boy chic and his over-all ruggedness supported that look. His deep..and (Oh, what's the word she was looking for? Ah yes…) _smoldering_ eyes flitted over the girls, both of whom looked back, dumbfounded. He strode past them and down the hall. Reaching their classroom, he turned and marched in.

In Rhonda's ear, Helga whispered "Is _**THAT **_enough motivation for you?"

Rhonda stared at the place into which the boy disappeared for second longer. She then grabbed Helga's hand and rushed back to the class door. Pausing, she turned to Helga, suddenly businesslike.

"Is there anything in my teeth, on my face, in my hair, or anywhere else that will be distracting if I talk to him?". She bared her teeth then turned her head left and right.

Helga sighed. "No, Rhonda. You're as flawless as ever." She said, her voice filled with agitation.

"Excellent." Rhonda rubbed her hands together. She pulled her shoulders back, shook her hair behind her shoulders confidently, and grinned at Helga. "Let's meet the new kid."

* * *

Probably will update again tonight, just felt like this was a good stopping point. Read on, good readers!


	6. Chapter 6

D could NOT believe it. He simply could not believe it. Of all the two thousand kids at this inner city school, it was just his luck to see the LAST one he _wanted _to see,_ first_. Oh, and she hadn't changed a BIT, he noted bitterly. Same Rhonda she always was; fancy clothes, shiny hair, and from the way she strutted back into the classroom, clearly she was still arrogant. In fact, as far as D could tell, there were only two things different about her: the fact she had boobs and the manner in which she looked at him. She held her eyes half lidded, she fluttered her eyelashes, and stared at him in a way that spoke plainly of desire. And she was completely unabashed about the way she looked at him. She knew she was beautiful and used it as a means to get his attention. He had to admit, she had met his expectations looks wise, maybe even exceeded them. Billy had been right in his guesses about her 11th grade self.

D pulled his eyes away from her and scanned the class room. A fraction of the kids were familiar faces. There in the third row sat Sheena and Peapod Kid, whatever his name was. And in the front, much to D's shock, was Harold Burman. But not the Harold Burman he remembered; this boy was powerfully built, all his fat gone, and in its place, some serious muscle. His face was more or less the same, however the ever-protruding tooth had retreated back into his mouth. D was sorta happy for him.

Ah, and there was that weird Football-shaped head in the back row. Arnold looked back at D with polite curiosity. D looked away uninterested. It seemed that Arnold, the Golden Boy, hadn't changed a bit either.

Beside him sat Sid. If it were possible, the kid's nose had gotten longer. The thing looked like a dick. D laughed a bit to himself at that, and sat in the chair the teacher merely pointed at for him to sit. He didn't even introduce himself. D could tell he wouldn't like this teacher.

"What's so funny, New Guy?" D knew that voice. Turning to the seat next to him, he gasped. Stinky Petersen.

"Er, nothing, Stinky. Just remembered something funny from my old school." D looked forward casually.

"Are you a psychic?" Stinky looked at D wide-eyed. "So am I!"

D looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "What are you talking about? No, I'm not a psychic…"

"How'd you know my name, then? It's strange that you know it, on account of the fact I never properly introduced myself."

D blanched. _Oh god, I've blown my cover already!!_

He thought as fast as he could. "Er, I didn't know it was your name. I just call people 'stinky' sometimes…when, uh…they stink…" D looked up somewhat questioningly.

Stinky chuckled. "Well, that sure is a funny coincidence! And I 'pologize fer the smell. I was helpin' my dad fertilize the garden this mornin'. I didn't have a chance to shower."

On the other side of Stinky, a harsh-voiced girl scoffed. "Criminy, Stinky, you do realize that we live in the city? As in urban. As in the opposite of rural."

D recognized that voice. Sure, it was more mature, but it _had_ to have been hers because he didn't know anyone else his age that used the word 'criminy'. He looked at the source of the voice, and his jaw dropped. It was the girl from the hallway, the girl who he checked out along with Rhonda, the pretty blonde with the fantastic ass. Who also happened to be the girl who beat him up on two distinct occasions in grade school?

Yup. Helga G. Pataki. Talk about that whole Ugly Duckling thing! She was most certainly a babe. And, if she still had that spunk from back in the day, she really ought to meet Billy. He liked the feisty ones.

"What are you _staring_ at, New Kid?" she glared at him.

"Oh, er, sorry. You just remind me of someone I used to know."

Her eyes looked as if they slid in and out of focus for a moment, then she responded "Yeah, I was just thinking you look familiar myself. New to the city or did you just transfer schools?"

D wasn't sure which choice was safer. He decided to mix the two.

"I'm uh, a transfer student, but I just moved to the city last year. So...both."

"I must have seen you somewhere or something." She shrugged then looked forward. Robbins, who had been searching for some aspirin for a few minutes, had finally found it and taken some. He stared at the class expectantly.

"So, as you can see, class, we have a new student. His name is-"

D stood up, cutting off Robbins. "D. The name is D and that's all I go by. "

"But it says here-" Robbins began, looking confused.

"Yeah, I know what it says, but I'm D. Really, please just call me D."

Robbins raised an eyebrow. "Whatever. I'm Mr. Robbins. And you, 'D', have joined our class at a very opportune moment. You see, it's lucky you'd come today because now you can see EXACTLY what happens to students who disrupt my class. Now, it says here you came from a-"

D cut him off again. "Yeah. Yeah I did."

Robbins seemed pleased at D's desperation to keep his details quiet. It gave the teacher leverage.

"So let this be a warning to you. Screw around in my class or be disrespectful, and _you will be punished." _ He turned his attention to the back of the room, and barked "Miss Lloyd!"

D turned his head and found Rhonda. Her face was red-tinged and her eyes were ablaze.

"Yeah?"

"Come up to the front of the room, please."

Rhonda, displaying all the dignity she could, marched to the front of the room with her nose held high. She turned back towards her classmates. She determinedly looked anywhere other than D. If she did, she knew she would blush. If she blushed, Robbins would think he had won. Rhonda wouldn't allow that.

"Apologize to the class for your outburst."

"Sorry." She looked at her classmates.

"It's fine, Miss Rhonda! I reckon you were just worked up is all!" Stinky called out.

"Stinky?" asked Robbins dangerously.

"Yessir?"

"Shut up. Now, Miss Lloyd, apologize-"his lips pulled over his coffee stained teeth into a smile- "to me. For your disrespect and general indifference to my class."

Rhonda scoffed, and turned her head up. "I'm not indifferent to the _class_. I get good enough _grades_. _I _just don't like _you_." The class burst out into laughter. Robbins silenced them with a deathly stare.

"I'm not even going to pretend to be offended by that. Now apologize."

"Pfft, sorry, Mister Robbins. Yeah, real sorry."

He smiled evilly. "Good"

"…that I have to be around you." She muttered under her breath. D caught her saying it, and laughed. She looked at him, and mentally cursed herself. She had blushed. Robbins noticed, and smiled even more harshly.

"Lastly, Miss Lloyd. I want you to apologize to someone else."

Rhonda's jaw dropped in an angry exhale. "Who?" she snapped.

"Harold Burman, for putting him in that awkward situation and therefore inhibiting his learning experience."

Harold shrunk in his seat slightly. Rhonda turned to her teacher in disbelief.

"You're kidding, right? You don't actually expect me to apologize to that…that…sleaze, do you?"

D blinked. 'Sleaze'? As far as he could remember, Rhonda and Harold had always been somewhat civil to each other, sometimes inexplicably flirtatious with each other.

"Yes. Yes I do." Robbins folded his arms.

"Well then you've got another thing coming, don't you?" Rhonda turned on her heel to walk out of the classroom. The bell rang. She walked out the door without a glance back.

Inside the classroom, stuck behind a slow moving line of people, D heard snippets of conversation.

"Robbins was a real douche today…"

"…meatloaf again this week? I swear those lunch ladies are out to get me…"

"Well, I don't know, she was a little out of line, but he totally crossed it."

"I reckon she'll be getting a big fat detention come tomorrow."

"Look, Arnold! I'm not going to apologize for cheating on Rhonda. I already did and it's not my fault she's not over it! So quit buggin' me"

D stopped in his tracks. From behind him, Harold pushed him forward.

"Keep walkin' New Kid!"

D turned around and glared at him. "Harold, I take it?"

"What's it to you?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to make sure I knew who the idiot was to cheat on that beautiful girl."

Harold grabbed D's neckline. "What'd you say to me?"

D opened his mouth to repeat himself, not even phased by Harold, when someone broke the two apart.

"Come on, Harold. Cut him a break. He's new. Besides," Sid grinned, "you ARE an idiot for cheating on Rhonda. You even said so yourself!"

Harold looked angry. They were in the hallway now. D turned gruffly away and straightened his jacket. He nodded in acknowledgement at Sid, and walked off, the last bit of the other boys' conversation fading away.

"Yeah, so what? I happened and there's nothing I can do and I don't even care. So get off…"

D shook his head to clear his thoughts, sorta like an Etch-a-Sketch erasing a picture. He didn't know WHY exactly he was angry at Harold for cheating on Rhonda. He guessed he was bitter that HAROLD had been with Rhonda (or so he assumed), even though he was a complete idiot. If her standards were THAT low, how bad was D when he had been Curly? How had Curly managed to be below the standard when Harold Burman met the bar?

But hell, if Harold managed to break Little Miss Richie-Rich's heart, then D wouldn't have to get his revenge. It wasn't worth it.

He stopped walking for a minute, looking for his next classroom number. His thought process changed.

No, it IS worth it. Rhonda is a bitch. She deserves a reward for how she treated him as a kid. She deserves karma. Payback. And he was gonna give it to her.

He subconsciously began wringing his hands in a conniving fashion. He started laughing insanely, uncontrollably. Then suddenly

It was pitch black.

Someone had grabbed him and pulled him into some kind of…broom closet?

He was forced into a half-nelson, and found himself being blinded by a flashlight.

"Thaddeus Curly Gammelthorpe?"

D grunted in shock. In one swift motion, he was out of the half-nelson and had his captor's wrists closed in one of his hands. He turned on the light.

"Helga?"

She was fighting to get out of his grasp, but paused and looked at him. "Admit it, Curly. It's you. I couldn't place you at first, but after you defended Rhonda like that, it all clicked. The game's up, pal."

D glared at her. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh yeah?" she shot back. "Then why'd you freak out when I said your name, _Curly_?"

D stared at Helga fiercely, not breaking eye contact. Finally, he sighed, crouched down on an overturned trashcan, and looked up at her.

"Is it really _that_ obvious?"

"Nah," she shrugged, straightening her shirt, "Only when you go off and drool over Rhonda like you used to. Oh, and it's questionable when you know people's names before they introduce themselves. Thankfully for you, Stinky is slower than frozen molasses…he didn't suspect a thing." She sighed. "I, on the other hand, am NOT slow and saw right through you. Now, you may be able to fool these suckers into thinking you're 'D', but they'll catch on eventually, especially if you're this careless all the time."

D looked up at her, confused. "So…you're not going to tell anybody?"

Helga crossed her arms and smirked. "No. I won't."

"Why not?"

Helga cocked her head to the side. "I dunno, you seem different now. It would be sort of a drag if kids met you now and thought of you the same way you were when we were ten. For instance, Rhonda."

"Rhonda? What's she got to do with this?"

Helga stared at him. "I don't know, you tell me, Curly."

D cringed at the name. "D, Helga, please, not Curly."

The bell rang.

"Shit!" cried Helga, grabbing her stuff. "We're late! C'mon." She grabbed his arm and began pulling him out of the closet. "What room do you have for your next class?"

Helga was being way too forceful. D wrenched his arm away as they bounded into the hallway. "Jesus, Helga, don't be so rough next time!" he complained, rubbing his arm.

Arnold was passing by, giving both Helga and D a weird look. D could see why. Two disheveled looking teens falling out of a broom closet, one telling the other she was rough? D smirked.

Helga on the other hand, looked horrified.

"Er..I have room 240."

Helga snapped out of it and glanced at his locator sheet. "C'mon. You have the same class as me."

D tried to keep his tone casual. "So, uh, whatever happened with you and Arnold? Ever date?"

Helga froze. "What?"

"You know, I mean, you liked him so much back in the day…"

Helga grabbed D's collar and pulled him forward. He was getting really tired of people doing that.

"How did you know?" She growled.

"I thought it was common knowledge." He shrugged.

"Well it WASN'T. If you ever breathe a word of this, I swear to god you'll wish you'd never been born. I'll tell them who you are." She whispered menacingly.

D got an idea.

"And if you tell a soul who I really am, I'll tell Arnold."

Helga stared at him. "I see we've reached an agreement." She said stiffly, releasing him.

He grinned. "Looks like it."

The two shook hands, and Helga led them to class.

D smiled to himself. This friendship/blackmail situation with Helga in which he found himself was something he rather liked.


	7. Chapter 7

Rhonda was almost irritated that the bell interrupted her moment of rebellion. Truthfully, she wasn't normally a disruption in class, but rather a relaxed, yet slightly opinionated, student. She wasn't necessarily the best in any of her classes, but she was a bright girl. She always got her work turned in on time unless something completely unavoidable got in the way. Her eyes narrowed…that debutante ball was the only time she neglected her English homework. Otherwise, she was pulling a solid 94% in the class. Why Robbins hated her, well, she didn't know and didn't care. He was a pathetic, boorish man. Plus he wore the tackiest ties. Really, there was no excuse for it.

Yet, despite her dislike for the teacher, Rhonda had a feeling she would come to like her second period class a lot more than she had previously. That boy, D? Rhonda just couldn't get enough of him. He seemed so deliciously mysterious, yet somehow, safe and familiar. She couldn't put her finger on it, but whatever D was, it sure worked for him.

Lost in thoughts of D, Rhonda made her way through the hallway, dodging kids absentmindedly and side-stepping acquaintances who seemed like they wanted to chat with her. Suddenly, Rhonda felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Rhonda!" huffed Nadine, Rhonda's best friend. "Why are you ignoring me?"

"I'm sorry Nadine, I was day dreaming, I didn't hear you."

Nadine shrugged. "Yeah it's fine. Coming up with more ways to kill Harold? "

Rhonda turned away from Nadine and resumed her walk down the hall. Actually, it was more of a strut. Rhonda couldn't help but strut when annoyed. It just happened.

"Harold? Harold who?"

Nadine trotted alongside Rhonda, trying to keep up with Rhonda's long strides. Nadine was taller than Rhonda, but somehow could never keep up. "Oh, come on, Rhonda. You know who I'm talking about."

They rounded a corner and walked across the quad towards another building.

"Well, Nadine, it just so happens that Harold Burman, if that's even who you were referring to, is a complete waste of time. Besides, I met someone last period who I think will make the perfect romantic distraction." Rhonda grinned mischievously.

"What? Who?" Nadine said excitedly, then her demeanor changed darkly "Don't tell me Sid. Please."

Rhonda stopped and glared at Nadine. "Of COURSE not _Sid_! Good lord, Nadine, don't you know me at all? After all these years of being my best friend, you'd think you would KNOW by now that I have good taste!"

Nadine crossed her arms and smiled crookedly. "Oh, is THAT why you dated _Harold_?"

Rhonda flinched, but continued on robustly. "Ha-ha, very funny. You really have room to talk about taste, Nadine, when you're wearing the same two toned Mary-Janes you've worn since third grade. Anyways, I was not talking about Sid. I was talking about the new student!"

Nadine ignored the slight on her style, and pressed on eagerly. "A new student? Oh, Rhonda, what's he like? Is he cute? Funny? What does he look like?"

"Oh Nadine, he's gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous! He looks like a total bad ass, but in the sexiest way, and his eyes just…"she shuddered happily, "smolder!"

Nadine giggled, the skin on her nose crinkling over the dusting of freckles on her tan skin. "Oh, Rhonda…"

"And _what,_ may I ask, is so funny, Nadine?" Rhonda crossed her arms.

Nadine smiled. "This is just the way you acted when you first started dating Harold. All gushy and interested. It's kind of funny, and nice, to see you get like that over some other guy."

Rhonda straightened up. "Well, Nadine, I adapt to my surroundings." Rhonda turned to a door to her left as the bell rang. "Here's my stop, Nadine. Meet for lunch?"

Nadine shook her head. "I can't, I've got environmental club at lunch on Mondays, remember?"

Rhonda sighed disappointedly. "Alright. I'll eat with the other girls then. Bye Nadine!"

Rhonda entered the classroom and hurried to her back row chair. She pulled out a hand-held mirror and checked herself over. Satisfied, she put the mirror down.

"Hey, Rhonda." Came a voice from the seat next to her. "What's with the beauty check?"

"Can you keep a secret, Gerald?"

Gerald leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. "Yeah, I guess. New crush or something?"

Rhonda bit her lip and nodded. "Something like that."

Gerald grinned arrogantly. "Well Rhonda I'm flattered but I've got to be honest with you and tell you now; it would never work out between us, baby."

"Oh, Gerald!" Rhonda slapped his arm annoyed. "You know I didn't mean you! You certainly aren't my type."

"Yeah, I'm way outta your league." He smiled back at her, clearly just messing around. "So who's the next unsuspecting victim of Rhonda W. Lloyd?" He looked around the room. Sid had just entered through the door. "Is it Sid?"

Rhonda exhaled angrily. "No! It's not Sid!! Good lord!"

At that moment, Arnold entered the room, his eyes on the floor.

Gerald stood up. "Hey man, how's it going?" Gerald extended his arm above Rhonda and the boys did their timeless handshake.

"Hey, Gerald." Arnold sighed and sat down on the seat to the right of Rhonda. "Hey, Rhonda."

"Hello, Arnold." She turned her attention to her left. "ANYWAYS, _Gerald_, as I was saying before, I am NOT interested in Sid. I am interested in the newest student to attend Hillwood High."

To her right, Arnold scoffed. "What, you mean 'D'?" Arnold's eyes darkened slightly. "You're not the only one."

Gerald sat forward to look at Arnold and laughed. "What do you mean, YOU?"

Arnold shot him an annoyed look. "No, I mean Helga. I just saw the two of them burst out of a janitor's closet, as he was complaining she was 'too rough'."

A full bellied laugh erupted from Gerald. "What you think they hooked up within minutes of meeting each other? Come on, Arnold. Use your head. Helga didn't kiss that dude Joey once, and they dated three months." Gerald leaned back in his seat, his voice dropping slightly as their U.S. history teacher, Mrs. Brown, walked to the front of the room. "I seriously doubt she'd hook up with the dude, especially that fast." Arnold nodded, somewhat relieved. He turned to face the front of the room with a small, nearly undetectable smile.

Rhonda's eyes narrowed. She thought Helga understood that Rhonda had staked claim on the new kid. Perhaps not, but whatever happened in that closet, Rhonda was certain it wasn't anything romantic.

Mrs. Brown began to lecture the class. Leaning across Rhonda, Gerald whispered to his best friend. "Besides, why would you care if Helga and the new kid were getting frisky in a supply closet?"

"Gerald!" Mrs. Brown's shrill voice cut through the air much louder than previously. "Is there something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?"

Gerald leaned back. "Er, not really. I was just giving Arnold grief. No problems here." He shrugged.

Mrs. Brown opened her mouth and closed it, as though she was going to punish him but couldn't find it in her heart to do so. Finally she said, "Please wait until I'm through speaking to commence conversations." She really was a nice lady. A total pushover, but friendly.

The lecture was long. Rhonda couldn't help but daydream about when she'd see D next, and theorize why Helga had been in a janitor's closet with him. Gerald couldn't help but wonder why Arnold was acting all bent out of shape over this new guy. Arnold couldn't help but obsess over what may have happened in that closet. Truth be told, he was sure it was nothing sexual, but still, Helga was his friend and he didn't want any new kid to get ideas about her. Arnold merely was feeling protective. Right?

Finally, Mrs. Brown stopped speaking, giving the students time to "work productively on schoolwork", which the student considered code for "Chill and do whatever, I don't really care."

Arnold turned to Gerald, immediately restarting the previous conversation. "I don't care if he's in there with _Helga_, but all I'm saying is this: If he can get HELGA interested in him this quick, Helga Pataki, one of the pickiest girls in the school when it comes to who she dates, then the rest of the girls don't stand a chance against him." Arnold looked almost scared, almost amused.

Gerald's eyes widened slightly, but he tried to play it off like it didn't mean a thing. "I'm not scared of this kid. I don't have anything to worry about. " Gerald's eyes darted across the room, towards Phoebe, who was chatting excitedly with Sheena.

Arnold looked too. "Dude, I wouldn't be too sure. You know how Phoebe can get. Remember her obsession with that pop singer guy back in the day?"

"His name is Ronnie Matthews." Rhonda added lazily. "I saw your face and wow…" She sang under her breath.

"Yeah, that guy. She was crazy about him. Why? He was attractive."

Gerald shrugged. "Yeah? So? I may not be Denzel Washington, but I'm no Mike Tyson either."

Rhonda leaned in. "Gerald, you don't get it. This guy is everything girls like. He's attractive, and he's all tough looking, and…he's mysterious…His eyes smolder." She shuddered happily.

"Yeah, that. It has nothing to do with you or what you look like."

Gerald raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Look, Arnold. You're taking this too far."

"Am I?" Arnold sighed. "I don't know, Gerald. I just don't know."

Gerald leaned back in his seat. "So, it's the seventh anniversary of Gerald Field next week. Are we having a party like last year?"

Arnold shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."

Rhonda's eyes lit up. "Yes! Of course we will! And I'll plan it!"

Gerald and Arnold looked over at her, each with one eyebrow raised. Gerald spoke first.

"Uh, and may I ask _why_, Rhonda? You never seemed to care that much before."

Rhonda decided to cut the crap and go straight to the point. "It will be an excuse to have some social time with D."

Arnold sighed. "Look, Rhonda, if you want to get to know the guy, why not just ask him to hang out? He's in a new place, he's probably lonely."

Rhonda chuckled airily. "Oh, Arnold, you're so naïve about these things." The bell rang. "See you later, boys. I've got to go _accidently_ bump into _someone_ in the hallway so that this _someone_ will ask to eat lunch with me. Au revior!" She wiggled her fingers and was off.

Gerald shook his head. "That's one sick girl."


	8. Chapter 8

Dear Readers,

There's not much to say other than sorry. I'm sorry I've kept you all waiting so long. So I will spare you an excuses I'm tempted to make and just get on, FINALLY, with Geek. But thank you for digging the story, and I'll try to update more frequently. So without further ado…

CHAPTER EIGHT!

Helga and D walked out of their art class, laughing heartily.

"You're telling me that you sculpted your principal riding _naked_ on an elephant for a project, and all you got was a detention?" Helga clapped D on the back, "You're absolutely out of your gourd, you know that?"

D laughed, "The best part of it was, I got to keep the damned thing. And when I left, Mr. Keebly, my principal, asked for it, and offered me 50 bucks. He said he got a kick out of the thing, and his wife would like it."

Helga cringed. "That's a little weird."

D sighed a little, "Damn, that was a fun school. I'm really going to miss it. My whole life was there."

Helga looked sympathetic. "Hey, well, you may not be able to get away with that kind of stunt here, but it's not so bad. Everyone's a lot less moronic now, believe me." They had reached the exit to the quad, and Helga pushed through the door. She turned to him in the sunlight, walking backwards to face him with her arms raised. "This is where people eat when it's nice outside. In fact, I'll be eating out here today. And seeing as you know NOBODY " she leaned in a whispered "except everyone you grew up with, not that THEY know that, of course- Why don't you come eat with me?"

D contracted his eyebrows, but then smiled. "Thanks, Pataki. That'd be great."

She led him to a cement table beneath a big, shady tree. Already sitting there were Sid, Stinky, a boy D didn't recognize, Phoebe, Gerald, and Arnold…the last of whom wore a very uncomfortable expression- D could sense some hostility…until Arnold swallowed whatever had been in his mouth and chugged a soda to the cheers of the others.

"Damn, Arnold! That's was beastly!"

"Hahaha, look at his eyes!"

As she approached the table, Helga laughed. "Don't tell me the game's still going…Seriously, Arnoldo? What was it this time?"

"Jumbo Jalepeno…He had to chew the seeds and see how long he could resist swallowing." Gerald said, leaning back.

"And?"

"One minute, flat."

Arnold gasped. "Helga, do you have anything to drink? I'm desperate!" He sputtered, as she tauntingly help up a Yahoo. "Please? I'll do anything!"

She tossed it to him, smiling. Arnold sighed in relief, chugged the yahoo, and sighed again. "Thanks, Helga." He looked up with his eyes at her and grinned. "You're amazing."

Helga turned red, hid a grin, and turned to D. "Don't mention, Arnoldo, geez, don't have to go all mushy." Arnold smiled and shrugged, and Helga continued. "Guys, this is D. He's new here, and is gonna sit with us today."

"Sup, man?" Gerald reached across the table and shook his hand. "The name's Gerald Johansson."

"And I'm Phoebe," she blushed as he shook her hand. He turned to Arnold.

"We've met." said Stinky mysteriously, who raised head in what appeared to be a secretive way, his eyes widened.

"Sid, and this is Jimmy." Said Sid matter-of-factly. "He doesn't talk much." Then with a glance to his right, "Uh oh...There's Herald...By now he's gotta know what we did to his sandwich..." He looked at the group at large. "We better dip." At that, the three ran off.

D snorted in amusement, and turned. "You must be Arnold, then." Arnold looked surprised at this, and nodded, mouth full of Yahoo. He swallowed.

"Nice to meet you, but how'd you know my name?" Arnold shook D's hand.

D smiled, half lidded, mischievous. He knew Helga still had it bad for this kid, he saw no harm in letting Arnold wonder about her. "Helga told me all about you."

Helga's jaw dropped. Gerald's eyebrows lifted. Phoebe blanched.

D continued, as if he hadn't stopped at all. "And that must be Rhonda approaching. She told me about all her friends." He half glanced at Helga, eye brow cocked, smiling craftily. She wore a matching expression, which worried him.

"Yup, it IS Rhonda! Well, that's D, everyone. He may seem a little strange now, but I'm sure that once you get to know him, he'll be just like _an old friend_!" She smacked his back, a little too hard. "I've got to have a word with Rhonda. Excuse me."

As Helga walked to Rhonda, D sat down, smiling over his shoulder at her trickery. He looked back towards the table. The three others watched him closely, Arnold a little TOO closely.

"So, where did you come from, D?" Asked Phoebe politely.

"San-" He stopped. He needed to be more careful. "San Diego."

Phoebe lit up. "Wow! Really? I had an internship at the zoo. It was incredible! I stayed at this beautiful house a few blocks from Balboa Park. It was wonderful! What part of the city are you from?"

D sputtered. "What did you say?" His composure faltered.

"I asked where you are from. There are so many wonderful parts of San Diego, I'm curious as to which you came from, although I hope I'm not being too intrusive." She smiled awkwardly.

Suddenly, D remembered something Billy told him, about spending his spring break at…what was it? Something totally redundant…Ocean Beach! Some little smoker town. Bingo.

"Ocean Beach. Heh, my parents are sort of hippies." He crossed his arms. Judging by Phoebe's widening smile, he could tell she recognized the place.

Suddenly, Arnold spoke up. "I went to San Diego once. Spent a day there, waiting for a connecting flight to San Lorenzo." He paused. "It's a nice place. Why'd you leave?"

"Dad needs medical attention. Best hospital for his ailment is here." D scowled. It was hard to feel too much sympathy for his dad, after having abandoned him…but still, it was his more could he do?

He glanced over at Rhonda and Helga, who seemed to be having a badly covered argument. Nothing big of course, but Helga seemed to be convincing Rhonda of something, who simply would not buy it. Finally, Rhonda huffed crossed her arms, and nodded. They both turned to look at him, noticed he was watching them, and hastily turned away. D smiled...it was just like the way Rhonda used to be. She'd put up this front, act like she didn't like him, and then he'd catch her in the act of straight up _staring_ at him. A tiny part of him almost remembered how loving her felt. But he stopped that thought before it could form, and turned away slightly irritated.

Rhonda walked up to her friends' table, casually, gracefully. There he sat, dripping a cool apathy, his half lidded eyes turned away from her. Her guts froze over, shook, and heated again...it was a sensation she quite liked.

Rhonda walked up to their friends' table, snobbish as ever. Her head was held high, he nose slightly upturned, with a contrived air up superiority. He recognized the familiar behavior instantaneously. Maybe she hadn't changed at all. It was a realization he really did not like.

A thousand questions fluttered through her mind...everything from the state of her hair to his middle name, suddenly she had to know. Her tongue, however, rebelled and she blurted out "What's up?" She shut her mouth quickly. She might as well be wearing a "LOOK HOW NERVOUS I AM!" sign...it was that obvious.

D snorted. He'd expected to get some sort of ridiculous "I'm Rhonda Wellington Lloyd" speech or something...NOT a half-yelled "What's up?"...It seemed little Miss Rhonda had lost her cool a bit, her swagger, her edge. Or maybe he just had that affect on her. He hoped it was the latter...but either way, it was somewhat cute. Way better than her "I'm hot shit" routine.

Gerald raised an eyebrow at her. "Nothing's up...just sitting her with the, uh, new student. Is something wrong? You're acting...off."

Phoebe tried to elbow Gerald discreetly, but failed, which only added to the awkwardness of the situation.

"Acting off?" she laughed oddly, a little too loud and a little too hard. "Why, nothing's wrong at all, Gerald, ol' buddy."

Helga coughed. The table looked at her, hoping to break away from this sudden tension. D reached into his pocket and pulled out a cherry sucker, and tossed it to her softly. "Suck it, that should help. You sound a little sick."

Helga smiled. "Thanks Cur-" she stumbled, barly catching herself. "-T Cobain." _Kurt Cobain? _How was she gonna explain that? "I _am_ getting a bit sick."

Arnold's eyes narrowed, as did Rhonda's. They both sensed Helga's sudden, badly concealed panic...This D seemed to have an effect on her. And Rhonda did NOT like it...but that was nothing to the mistrust Arnold was suddenly feeling. "Kurt Cobain?" he asked D suspiciously. "Are you a Nirvana fan?"

Helga jumped in. "He was just telling me last class how his friends used to call him that," she improvised wildly.

D followed her lead. "It was like a code name...on like walkie-talkies..."

Helga continued "- that they used when they would pull pranks on people."

Arnold nodded. "Are you a big prankster then?" he paused. He knew he sounded judgmental and slightly unwelcoming. But he got a weird vibe from the new kid. Okay, that wasn't true. He got a mysterious vibe from D...which, if his guesses were correct, Helga was digging it.

D nodded back. Gerald, suddenly interested, began asking lots of questions about it. But D's thoughts were elsewhere. He had noticed Arnold's suspicion about the Kurt Cobain thing...This was a problem. Did Arnold know? Could Helga have let it slip? Nah, impossible, he was with her the whole time, and hadn't even seen her text. Maybe he'd noticed himself? Arnold was no dummy, he wasn't easily fooled...

Rhonda, meanwhile, thought frantically to herself about D and Helga's weirdness. What was this whole "buddy buddy" routine they had going? She seemed TOO comfortable with him. It was odd. And he, likewise, seemed very close with her, as if they'd known each other all their lives. Something didn't fit. And Rhonda would NOT allow the one glimmer of romantic hope she'd had in months be extinguished by Helga G. Pataki. No way was THAT gonna happen. Sure, Helga said NOTHING happened in that broom closet, but she gave no explanation for it, didn't say what they talked about. Rhonda never thought she'd be flat out jealous of Helga...

Arnold stopped listening to Gerald's excited stories of the many great pranks he had, and started to think. Why he was suddenly feeling so protective over Helga, Arnold couldn't explain. All he knew was A) New kid = Weird. B) Helga = intrigued. Not a combination Arnold liked. Why didn't he like it? Brotherly protection, sure. At best, a little crush. Well, medium crush. Frustrated, Arnold exhaled sharply. A _big_ crush, a _freaking substantial_ crush, but Helga was Helga and Arnold was Arnold, and it wouldn't ever happen. It _could_ have happened, _maybe_, but with D in the way, and Helga going all gooey over him...well, there was nothing Arnold could do.

Of them all, however, Helga was elated. The giddy feeling in her stomach hadn't died down yet, from when Arnold called her amazing. This was definitely a step in the right direction. Finally, after a decade and then some, Arnold thought she was "amazing"...maybe not enough to be romantic about it, but...it was certainly something to think about.


	9. Chapter 9

As the week finished, D continued to be D, the new, mysterious sexy student. It seemed that every day, more girls wanted him. Each day, their interest increased. Same for a boy or two- not that D was too shocked to learn Eugene was out of the closet now.

Helga, who he found himself spending tons of time with, seemed good on her word of keeping quiet. But that wasn't all she was good at. She was the best pool player D had ever met...not that he knew that before the bet.

"Alright, Bucko, let's see if you're all you've cracked yourself up to be. Pass me the chalk cube, will ya?" She was arrogant in the dim billiards hall, but so was he. Setting the cue ball down on the table, he split the triangle of balls perfectly. Two solids fell into their respective holes.

"Solids, baby!" he exclaimed. Leaning to her ear he added teasingly "Beat that, kid."

" You know- Curly- what'dya say we make this... more interesting, huh?" Her lip curled into a devious smile.

"PLEASE no more "Curly"- please?" his simper weakened her for a moment.

She was still amused at the complete change the nerd went through- they must have had cocoons in California.

"No ones around, you big baby... But fine. I'll stop calling you Curly.."

He sighed in appreciation.

"...IF-"

Aw fuck.

"...You win this game."

Unaware of her prodigious skill, he snorted. "And if I win?"

"Don't worry about that, you won't." She grinned.

"I'll agree on one condition." he stretched his arms and back in a very casually pretentious manner. "You lose" he drawled, "you tell Arnold."

She choked for a moment, but then grinned. "Honestly, it doesn't matter what you'd say. I'm not going to lose."

"So it's a deal?"

She shook his hand. "You know, D, it shouldn't take a lost bet to get you to be you again." she flicked her eyes up in a would-be nonchalant fashion, but the empathy was evident. He snorted.

"No really! You're not as different as you think. Sure you're like ten feet taller, apparently got a face transplant, and ditched the bowl cut, but you're still Curly. You've got a wild streak in you that you'll never outgrow. Why hide it?" she put an arm around his shoulders. Despite himself, he was glad to have a friend who knew his secret.

Unknown to the two, however, a trio of friends were walking by the billiards place during this-eh- heartwarming moment. Lila, Gloria, and Sheena- the definition of nice- looked in the billiards hall, and thought the same, stupid thing at once: "Helga and the New Kid? How adorable!"

Some teenage girls are idiots.

In retrospect, Helga would see where they got the idea. It was just the two of them, alone, and she was probably coming off touchy...

But that didn't give those little so and sos the right to spread a lie, or assumption, or theory (as Sheena said in terror as Helga held up Ol Betsy in strike position inches from her face later the next Tuesday) about the two. Since when was a game of pool synedochal to being in a steamy, secret, spur of the moment, whirlwind romance? And of course the rumors were all mistranslated.

"She was playing with his balls in a pool?"

Just Helga's perfect luck.

And to make matters even, somehow, worse, Rhonda was making nice, but clearly furious. All she had to do was ask what happened, but she was too proud. Helga kept her mouth shut for the exact same reason.

But D didn't see the harm. First, Rhonda looked livid in classes- a sure sign of boiling jealousy, no? Her fury was his glee. Revenge was sweet, but not sweet enough. Not yet.

And concerning Helga? Well, as far as D could tell, Arnold wasn't doing much better than Miss Lloyd. Sure he covered better but-the look on his face- if Helga couldn't see that the boy was crazy about her, she'd have to be blind. Or stupid. D hoped neither.

And second? Sure, he'd lost the game pretty badly (Helga was indeed awesome. Billy would just hate her!) A new plan had formulated. Helga was right, little Curly never left. D was always the rebel, always the weirdo, always the one to let passion take the wheel. He just upgraded to Curly 2.0. The sleeker, sexier Curly. And perhaps- perhaps- the ultimate revenge D could dish to Rhonda would be the knowledge that SHE, utterly and helplessly, had fallen for the little "creep" who'd loved her. No more hiding. No more secrecy. His dormant inner Curly was as determined to set himself free as he was with the Hillside Zoo animals. Now all he needed was to wait for the perfect opportunity.

* * *

That. Complete. Bitch.

Rhonda could not believe what she was hearing. Helga FREAKING Pataki?

And HIM?

It was too much.

"And Lila says they nearly kissed- right there! Can you believe it?" said Nadine breathlessly." No." replied the listening trio. Startled, Arnold, Phoebe and Rhonda

looked at each other.

"What? Why not? Why would Lila lie?" Nadine questioned.

"Because she's vacant as that lot on Kennedy Boulevard. Trust me. Helga would NOT do that-not to me." said Rhonda defensively, but in the back of her mind believed the opposite. "Right Phoebe?"

Phoebe looked thoughtful. "Although I don't mean to minimize the strength of your friendship, I find, rather, that the greatest flaw of the rumor is that Helga would ever even LIKE D...though he is handsome, he certainly is not her type." she finished confidently.

"What is her type, Phoebe?" Arnold knew this info was invaluable.

"Yeah, Phoebe, if its not sexy and swaggering-" Rhonda didn't buy it.

The sudden bell relieved Phoebe.

"Bye you two!" she slipped into the tide of students.

"Arnold, walk with me." Rhonda linked her slim arm through his more toned one. Thin though it was, it was surprisingly forceful.

"Before we begin, you clearly like Helga." Rhonda stated manner of factly, and continued to steam roller over his following stammering. "Don't argue. Don't lie. So I have a proposal for you." she stopped and looked him square in his startled face. "Help me get my D, and I'll help you get Pataki. Deal?"

"What exactly does that entail?" he replied hesitantly.

"Does it matter? Are you in or not?"

He blustered for a moment, then slowly, nodded. "I'm in."

Her face changed expression at lightning speed from crafty to...loving? The volume of her voice doubled, at least.

"Ah ah ah, Arnold!" she waggled a finger at him. "Seal it with a kiss."

"Wha-?"

But she was planted on his lips, oozing her strawberry lip goop on him. She broke away. "Bye, cutie!" she turned and flounced away down the hall.

Simultaneously a locker slammed. Was it hope, despair, or grim satisfaction that filled his chest cavity as he watched Helga Pataki run out the opposite door?

"Well Curly," Helga plopped down in the school grass beside him. "Its all over."

D looked up, perturbed. "Drop the whole rumor shit." he propped himself up on his elbows. "WE know we never had a ménage a trois in a pool- who cares what these people think?"

She groaned. "Oh god, that's what they're saying now?"

He laughed. "No but I wish they were. I'd be a god here."

Helga snorted. "Considering how nearly every girl who walks by you either turns beat red or creams herself, I'd say you already are."

"Aw yuck- too graphic Pataki." he chortled, shaking his head. "Too graphic."

She smiled, but briefly. "What's eatin you?" his voice softened.

He was shocked to see her eyes were drippy.

"Arnold and Rhonda...kissing." she groaned and sniffled. "How stupid!"

D, on the other hand, laughed. "Oh please... The levels to which Rhonda sinks never cease to amaze me."

Helga looked confused and annoyed, one eyebrow raised.

"Don't you get it? It's an act! Helga-come on-" He put his hands on her shoulders.  
"Arnold, he...well you've got him wrapped around your finger, okay?"

Her confusion deepened.

"He wants nothing more than for a certain part of you to be wrapped around his 'finger'- know what I'm sayin?" he laughed.

"Curly. Pretending to date someone to make someone else jealous never works-trust me." then remembering one awful experience, she added, "at least not how you'd want it to."

"I'm telling you. The boys been a wreck. Glares at me all the time- he hasn't been paying attention in English- he's either staring at you or shooting daggers at me."

Helga didn't dare hope that was true.

"Well that's stupid," she grunted, scowling. She lay back in the grass and sighed. "You bring trouble, I think. Bad luck."

He laughed and fell back too, enjoying the warm, moist, sunny grass, but a moment later he was up at the cry of "Oh DEE-eeee...Helllllll-gaaaahhh!"

Ugh. Her. And...Him? Rhonda was walking towards them, pulling a reluctant Arnold.

"Hi you two!" she said too brightly. "Here's an invite to the annual Gerald Field birthday party, its Friday, you two should definitely" she gushed at the word "definitely come. It'll be great." stepping obviously on Arnolds foot, added "right, Arnold, dear?" she embellished this with a sickening nose-to-cheek rub. Arnold looked very uncomfortable. "Sure."

Helga looked annoyed. "You ever hear of Facebook, Rhonda? As in, paper free invitations?"

Rhonda smirked." me and Arnold prefer to be more..." she slid her hand down his back."...personal."

D was entertained, but Helga was stock-stiff in anger. She, in a very classic Helga fashion, stuck her foot out just as Rhonda turned to leave. Rhonda flailed, but gravity won, and spitting hair out of her mouth, she straightened herself up from the ground. Tenderly, to everyone's general surprise, D leapt up and helped her stand. Their eyes wore matching expressions; twin cocktails of curiosity, venerability, and shock.

Her contrived air evaporated in her quiet "thank you."

Arnold and Helga made eye contact, also wearing matching expressions, as if to say "This is weird."

And Rhonda turned, nearly forgot to yank Arnold, and walked distractedly away without a word.

D was just as quiet.

"That was weird," stated Helga bluntly.

She glanced at him. "You okay, D?"

He nodded.

"Well, I've got to get home. Bob's too incompetent to make pasta, so while mom's on her little 'trip' I've got to play homemaker. Bye, D!"

And The Boy Formerly Known As Curly waved goodbye to his retreating friend with his subordinate left hand, because his dominant right hand was clutching the little piece of gold that had snapped away from Rhonda's neck as she flailed; a fine piece of gold he had last seen resting on the green fabric of a jewelry box, the only jewelry box he'd ever given.

The gold was tarnished. He opened the locket; he smiled at the sight of the scratched compass glass. It was clearly, often touched.

"No, Helga." he muttered. "Call me Curly."

* * *

Rhonda had seen that expression before. She knew she had. Behind the smolder, she'd seen eyes like his. Big, deep, focused...they sped across her face as if checking to make sure not a freckle was out of place from her tumble...and it reminded her of something. Or someone.

A movie? But which?

Rhonda hated, above all, confusion. She couldn't handle it. She always ended up acting rashly out of it, and then seriously regretting her actions. The locket was tangible proof of that.

She couldn't find it anywhere.

Rhonda was frantic.

"Where is it, where is it, where is it?" she tossed her dirty laundry pell-mell around her room. Drawers she knew it wouldn't be in were strewn about, contents scattered.

"Sonia!" she yelled. A bored looking woman walked in.

"Si?"

Rhonda gestured distractedly toward her chest. "my...my locket. Compass locket. Have you seen it?" she was lifting up her mattress at this point.

"No." Sonia rolled her eyes and left the room.

A dozen images swam through her mind; places she could have lost it, places she'd been, D helping her up, Curly helping her up after he'd given her it, the locker room where maybe it came off when―

Wait a second. That's who D reminded her of. Somehow the coolest looking guy Rhonda had ever seen reminded her of the adorably weird, geeky little thing that loved her as a kid. She wondered where he was now...and after a bit of contented daydreaming and reminiscing about the boy, she began to feel guilty. And again, her mind strayed to D.

Thus began epiphany number two.

Maybe― she thought― it fell near him when I fell!

Excitement growing, she pulled out her phone. Helga would know where to find him.


End file.
